Heart of Mine
by thismidnight
Summary: Nick meets his daughter for the first time in a stolen moment at the Waterford house after June is gone. Based on a lot of generous speculation from the episode 12 description.


_do you wanna find something worth saving?_

 _the change would do me right_

' _cause i've been just waiting and hesitating_

 _with this heart of mine_

He knows no one should be awake as he pushes the kitchen door open, but he still holds his breath anyway. He's spent the last four nights sitting up outside on his stairs, unable to sleep, memorizing the patterns of lights in the windows as they flickered on and off throughout the house. Serena's goes off first and stays off all night. Fred's is usually next, an hour or two later. And then, all night he watches as Rita's light goes on and off, on and off. Sometimes he finds himself staring at June's old window, expecting the light to turn on and the curtains to open, her eyes meeting his across the yard. He usually lights up another cigarette when he catches himself thinking that. She's at the Red Center now, it's impossible. Her window always stays dark.

But the light in the nursery always stays on now. There's a floor lamp right by the window, Serena had him put it together the day after the baby shower, so he suspects it must have been a gift. She'd had him assemble the crib then too, and he'd just barely been able to see straight enough to get through the task. About three hours ago he'd watched as Rita's shadow moved back and forth across the room before finally, several minutes later, her bedroom window went dark again.

He latches the door behind him as quietly as he can before slowly creeping through the kitchen. He knows he shouldn't be in here. But a week a half ago she'd been born, and now June was gone and he still hadn't managed to see his child, and it's eaten away at him in a way he hadn't expected. He needs to see her. She needs to know he's here. It's what June would want, he thinks, as he comes into the nursery, swallowing hard. She'd want him to be here for their daughter in any way he could.

The room smells different than the last time he was in here. Before it smelled like fresh paint, but now it smells like baby powder and lavender. Vaguely, he recalls something - probably from a commercial before - about the way babies smell being a thing. He'd never been able to relate then, but now as he slowly inches up to the crib, he finds it ridiculous that some bullshit from a Pampers commercial is what's going through his head. He knows it's his mind trying and failing to distract him somehow from the gravity of this moment as his heart races in his chest, his stomach turning backflip after backflip, his feet moving him practically on autopilot up to the crib. He brings his hands up to rest on the railing as he finally looks down at the baby.

His breath catches in his chest as he takes her in. She's so tiny, almost impossibly so. How can a person be this small? He thinks as he watches her chest rise and fall, her breathing slow and steady as she sleeps. He studies her face, already committing every detail to memory - wispy black hair on top of her head, his nose, June's mouth. He can't see her eyes, but he imagines they're the same blue as June's. She's the most perfect thing he's ever seen and that feels even more impossible than how small she is. How could something so perfect come from him?

"Hi," he whispers, his voice catching in his throat as he finally speaks. He clears it gently, waiting for a moment before he continues, the baby's sleeping undisturbed.

"I'm your dad," he says, his throat closing again around the last word. Dad. He's someone's dad now. He's _her_ dad. He tightens his grip on the crib railing, clearing his throat again as he looks up, blinking rapidly.

"I'm sorry," he continues, looking back down at his daughter, his eyes now glistening. "I'm sorry I couldn't get up here to you sooner." He shifts his weight anxiously from foot to foot. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you and your mom out of here. I tried so hard. I'm still trying. I'm doing everything I can. I promise."

He wants to promise her so much more. He wants to promise her that he'll get her back to June, that she won't grow up here, that they'll all be together, but he can't bring himself to make a promise he can't keep. He taps his fingers gently against the crib. What kind of promise he can keep here in this world where everything is against them?

"I'm trying to keep you safe. I'll never stop trying. As long as I'm here, you'll have me. You always will. But you gotta be brave like your mom for me, okay? You gotta be strong." He stands quietly for a few minutes, watching her sleep, his chest tight, the words he wants to say stuck in his throat.

"I love you," he finally says, his voice thick. "So much."

He clears his throat again, and as he does, the baby starts to stir, her little eyelids fluttering open. He sucks in a breath and holds it, preparing himself to make a hasty exit if she starts to cry, but to his surprise, she doesn't. She blinks sleepily a few times, but doesn't start to fuss.

"Hi," he exhales, a smile starting to spread across his face. "Did I wake you up? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

He swallows hard as her head turns in the direction of his voice. She blinks up at him, her eyes the same blue as June. He smiles even wider. "You look just like your mom. Did you know that?"

He's just about to whisper something else to her, when he hears a rustling in the doorway, and his heart drops into his stomach. His head snaps to the side to see who it is, his smile falling, as he pulls his hand off the crib like it's a hot iron.

"Jesus," he lets out a deep breath as Rita steps into the room. "You scared me."

"Sorry," she apologizes, regarding Nick carefully as he averts his eyes down and away from her. He knows she must have had her suspicions about him and June and the baby, but she'd never asked. He'd always considered her an ally though, so he doesn't mind if catching him in here confirmed what she already knew.

"I didn't know you knew how to smile," Rita teases him gently as she comes up to the crib, and he looks back up at her, her attention now on the baby in the crib. "Hard not to, though. She's very cute."

He can't stop one corner of his mouth from turning up into a smile as he nods in agreement, his eyes landing back on the baby. "Yeah, she is."

"Did she cry?" Rita asks and Nick shakes his head. "She's probably hungry. It's just about time for her to eat."

Guilt floods through Nick. He should be the one up doing the early morning feeding. He should be the one who's learning her schedule. June should be here with her, with him, with them. Suddenly he's furious, his guilt giving way to a red hot anger coursing through his veins and rising into his head. It's not fair. None of this is right. He clenches his jaw as one hand curls into a fist almost involuntarily. Rita glances at him, sensing the change in his mood.

"You know, she asked me if I'd look after her," Rita begins, getting Nick's attention, trying to distract him. He looks back up at her, curious, feeling himself start to defuse as she continues. "When you were in Canada. She wanted me to be there for her. To be kind. I'm glad you're doing that too."

He nods as he looks back at the baby, still lying content in her crib, his mouth drawn in a tight line as his anger diminishes almost completely. Rita looks from the baby to him, biting her lip, debating something. Finally, she sighs.

"She's calling her Holly." Nick looks up at her again, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion as his mouth falls open. Rita's seen June? How? When? Luckily, he doesn't have time to wonder, because she explains.

"She's pumping for the baby. She didn't want to see Mrs. Waterford, so I went to pick up what she had. She told me that's her name. Holly."

 _Holly_. He rolls the name around in his head, letting the fact settle and take root in his mind. He has a daughter, her name is Holly. He looks down at her and smiles again, reaching down into the crib and rubbing his thumb gently on the back of her small hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Holly," he whispers softly as the baby's eyes drift in his direction again. He looks at his hand on top of hers, and he feels his chest tighten again, taking in a deep shuddery breath. He still can't believe how much he already loves this little person.

Finally, he looks up at Rita, using her knuckle to swipe at her cheek under her eye. She shifts on her feet uncomfortably as she takes a deep breath. "Mrs. Waterford has been waking up earlier than usual this week," she says, her tone cautioning him. He looks at his watch and nods, understanding. She's looking out for all of them, and it's time for him to go, as much as he doesn't want to.

"Thank you," he tells Rita genuinely. "For everything." He looks at her seriously and she nods.

"Bye Holly. Be good for Rita, okay?" He shifts his eyes up in Rita's direction just in time to catch her rolling her eyes. He smiles again, shifting his attention back down to his daughter one last time.

"I'll be back. I promise."


End file.
